


The Witch and the Pacifier (Diapercember Day 7)

by Acemindbreaker



Series: Human Familiars [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Diapercember, F/M, Familiars, Forced infantilism, Gen, Master/Slave, Mind Control, Non-Sexual Age Play, Witches, non-consensual age play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-07
Updated: 2018-12-07
Packaged: 2019-09-13 14:46:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16894602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Acemindbreaker/pseuds/Acemindbreaker
Summary: Kirsteen wants a human familiar. When she does the familiar calling spell, Nestor feels the call and takes a pacifier as his familiar token, and it begins to change him, molding him, making him hers.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My Dad's story, the Un-Familiar, was inspired by this one, which I started writing in November in preparation for Diapercember. I'm also planning two sequels, which I'm hoping to have ready sometime next year.

Kirsteen wanted a human familiar.

Animal familiars were more traditional. The process of creating a familiar caused mental and personality changes, shaping the familiar into a mindset suited to servitude. Most witches had ethical concerns about doing such a thing to a human, especially since a familiar bond was never freely chosen by the familiar. Besides, many animals were closer to such a mindset to begin with, especially domestic animals.

But a familiar's innate magical energy determined what kind and how much power their witch could draw from them. Humans had more innate magical energy than most animals, unless you wanted to go looking for a dragon or cockatrice or unicorn to make your familiar. And the spells she was most interested in were all granted by choosing a human familiar.

The process of creating a familiar required a magical token, chosen by the familiar, which reflected the nature of the bond of servitude involved. Based on her research, she selected several likely tokens for a human familiar—a gag, a halter, a collar, a ring, a necklace, a pacifier, a branding iron, a tattoo gun and an earring. It was a more varied selection than you'd offer an animal, because the nature of the servitude of a human familiar was more varied, too.

Next was to find the target. Although there were ways to force a familiar bond onto an individual regardless of compatibility, they were difficult and the resulting bond was weaker. She doubted she'd need to resort to that. Instead, she opted for a standard calling ceremony, which required going to an area where many suitable targets could be found, performing the spell, and waiting for a compatible target to feel the call and be drawn towards her.

  


Nestor was partying in the inn, getting drunk with his friends, when a strange feeling came over him.

Without really knowing why, he got up. “Think I'd better turn in.” He slurred to his friends, unsure what he was saying or why. He wasn't tired, and he didn't plan to go to sleep. He didn't know what he planned to do, actually.

“Sure enough, Nestor!” His friend Mirko waved, then turned to the bar. “More ale, innkeep!”

Having made his farewells, he turned and headed up the stairs. He moved in a daze, barely aware of his feet stumbling over the steps. It was like he could hear something, or maybe feel something? All he knew was that he had no choice—he had to answer.

He found himself in front of the wrong door, leading to a room he knew he had no reason to be in. Even so, he couldn't stop himself from reaching for the doorknob. He took hold of it, turned...

  


Kirsteen's heart leapt as the doorknob turned and the door opened, revealing a dazed, drunken man. He had the look of a laborer, muscular but underfed, dirty and shabbily-dressed, with a broad, craggy face. His hair was brown and unkempt, his hands had dirt under the fingernails. He wasn't ugly, but he wasn't particularly attractive, either.

But none of that mattered. He stumbled in as if caught in a dream, barely seeming to see anything except for her and the selection of items laid out before her. When she closed the door behind him with a gesture and a whisper, he didn't even seem to notice. He stopped just sort of the spell circle and fell to his knees, gazing down at the selection of tokens.

Kirsteen held her breath, waiting. What would her familiar choose? What manner of servant would he be?

After several long moments, he made his choice. With a slow, unsteady hand, he reached out and grabbed the pacifier.

As soon as his hands closed upon it, his eyes cleared. “Shit! I'm sorry! I don't know what came over me!” He scrambled backwards, looked around wildly, then hurried to his feet, meeting her shocked gaze. “I didn't mean to intrude! I'll just go, OK?” And before she could answer, he was gone.

She let out a breath. Not the ideal response. Had he rejected the bond? Summoned enough strength of will, at the last moment, to turn her away?

Then she smiled, noticing something. The pacifier was gone. He'd taken it with him. And that meant that despite his flight, he was still hers. She just had to wait.

  


Nestor fled the room in a panic, and soon found himself in his own room, sitting on his bed. What was he thinking? He'd just barged into someone else's room without asking, sat down on her floor, pawed through her things...

Shit. Nestor suddenly recalled that he'd taken something. Slowly, he uncurled his fist, revealing—what the hell? Why had he taken a pacifier? For that matter, why did she have a pacifier in the first place? And it was large, too large for an infant. It was sized just right for his mouth.

With that thought, Nestor was suddenly struck with the bizarre urge to pop it in and suck on it. Shocked, he moved to throw the thing away, but some impulse stopped him, and instead he put it in the drawer beside his bed. He'd get some sleep, he decided. The next morning, he'd slide the thing under her door, and hope she wasn't in.

He lay down, but sleep didn't come easily. His mind was stuck on the pacifier, and his mouth longed to suck. The thought was ludicrous—a grown man, sucking on a pacifier! And yet, he just couldn't shake the longing. Somehow, he knew it would feel so right...

  


The next morning, Nestor awoke with his thumb in his mouth. Shocked, he pulled it out and wiped it on his pant leg. Was he going mad?

Shit. He had to keep it together. He didn't want to end up in an asylum.

He got up and headed to the toilet, deliberately suppressing the urge to check on the pacifier. Only after he'd emptied his bladder, washed out his mouth with a swig of ale, and changed his clothes did he finally let himself open the drawer and remove the pacifier. He pushed it into his pocket. He was going to return it, he firmly reminded himself. It wasn't his, it wasn't his right to take something that didn't belong to him. Besides, he didn't need it.

He headed out into the hall and straight to the door of the room he'd barged into, then hesitated. It was early morning. She was probably just waking up. She'd see him push it under the door, and how embarrassing would that be?

He turned and walked away. He'd return it later, when he was sure she wasn't there.

  


Throughout the day, his mind kept returning to the pacifier, his fingers itching to take it out, his mouth longing to suck on it. He kept intending to return it, but it never seemed like the right time.

She ate breakfast in the common room, he saw her, so he could've gone then—but no, she'd see him leave and find the pacifier later, and know he deliberately returned it while avoiding her. Too humiliating.

She left the inn after she'd finished her meal, he could have returned it then—but no, he should get going to work. Never mind that he'd probably be able to slip it under her door and come back and still have plenty of time to get to the field he'd been hired to pick. No, better not to take any chances.

At break, mid-morning, he could've gone back to the inn. But Mirko was there, he should say hi. And once he'd said hi, well, it would be rude to cut the conversation short prematurely, wouldn't it?

At lunch, he barely even considered heading back to the inn before deciding instead to eat lunch sitting on the bales with Mirko. Besides, he didn't really have the time to head all the way back to the inn during lunch, he reasoned, conveniently forgetting about the many times he'd done just that on previous days.

Mid-afternoon break, he was too tired. He didn't want to go all the way to the inn and back, and besides, he was going to be off work in a few hours. He could wait.

  


By the time he was done the day's work, he'd reached a resolution. No more excuses. He'd return the thing during supper. But Mirko bought him some ale, and he decided he may as well stay awhile. He'd return it later in the evening, once she'd gone to bed. He could see her sitting at the corner table by herself, and he wanted to join her, but that would be far too embarrassing. What if she asked him why he took it? So he waited with Mirko, drinking his ale, until she'd gone to bed. And then he waited some more.

A couple hours later, he bid Mirko farewell and headed upstairs, determined to finally return the pacifier. He found himself in front of her door, pacifier in hand, but he couldn't bring himself to slide it under. He couldn't give it up.

He stood there for a long time, frozen, and then finally, slowly, he lifted it to his mouth. Part of him was screaming at himself. What the hell was he thinking? But it felt so _right_ , to slip the nipple into his mouth and start to suck. And once it was in, he couldn't bear to pull it out. Besides, he couldn't give it back now—he'd have to wash it first.

The thought of heading back to his room to wash the pacifier finally convinced him to take it from his mouth and put it back in his pocket. But once he'd gotten to his room, after washing the pacifier, he found himself popping it back into his mouth.

He lay down on his bed, sucking his pacifier. Dimly, he wondered what the hell was wrong with him. Why couldn't he stop sucking on this thing? But it was so soothing, so relaxing, and before long, he'd fallen asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that Nestor's accepted the pacifier, it's time for his new Mommy to make her move.

The next morning, he awoke slowly and languidly. He stretched, yawned, and rubbed his eyes, and then sat up. And only then did he notice that he was sucking steadily on the pacifier in his mouth.

He pulled it out and stared at it. It had felt so natural, he'd completely forgotten it was there. Even now, he longed to put it back in, and the urge terrified him. Abruptly, he shoved it into his pocket and hurried through his morning routine, the whole time fighting the urge to pull it out and suck some more.

Down in the common room, he ate his food slowly, keeping his hands and mouth busy to stave off the urge. The strength of his desire, even here in a public setting, shocked him. The thought of sucking on a pacifier in front of all these people was too humiliating to imagine, and yet he couldn't shake the urge to do just that. How would he possibly make it through his work-day? He couldn't bear the thought of working all day with nothing in his mouth.

This was insane. He was insane. How could he need the pacifier so much? He was a grown man! Not only that, but he'd literally never even considered sucking a pacifier before the evening two nights ago, and now, it consumed his thoughts. How could his life, his _world_ , change so abruptly overnight?

He was jolted from his thoughts by the realization that someone was standing over him. An attractive, modestly-dressed woman, slightly plump, with reddish blond hair and rosy cheeks, smiling down at him. It was _her_!

  


Kirsteen had given him his space the day before, and finally, in the evening, she'd felt a jolt in her magic as their bond strengthened. He'd done something to confirm it, accepted her token in some way.

In the morning, he'd come to breakfast in a haze, a haunted, harried look in his eyes, and she knew he needed her. He was frightened and confused, and only she could bring order to his life. So, she finished her food quickly, while he savored each bite with a sense of desperation. And when she was done, she rose and headed to his table.

He didn't notice her immediately, so she stood watching him, waiting for him to look up. When he finally did, staring at her in a numb shock, she smiled. “Hello. I think we need to talk. How about you come to my room when you're done eating?”

He gaped at her, then caught himself. “Yeah. Sure.”

“Great. I'll be waiting.” She said, and then turned and left.

  


Nestor watched her go, feeling bereft and wondering why. She was a stranger. Sure, she was decently attractive, but so were plenty of women. Why did he feel so drawn to her? For that matter, why had he gone into her room in the first place, and why had he taken the pacifier and not given it back?

Shaking off his daze, he started hurriedly eating his food. As soon as he was done, he could go to her. And then, maybe he could get some answers.

When he was done eating, he got up and headed to her room, resolving to give her back the pacifier—though a treacherous part of him protested at the idea of giving it up—and ask her if she had any explanation for why he was acting so strangely.

As soon as he was in the hallway, out of sight, he couldn't resist the urge to take out the pacifier and put it in his mouth. Even though part of him screamed protests at the thought of appearing before her with that thing in his mouth, another part of him absolutely refused to do anything but.

  


When he entered her room, he was sucking on the pacifier. Kirsteen's heart leapt to see it.

“So, your soul has accepted my offer.” She said. “You are mine now.”

He gaped, then spoke around the pacifier. “Yours? I'm not—” he pulled it out. “What are you talking about? I'm here to give this back.”

“All right, then.” She stood and walked over to him, holding out her hand. “Give it to me, then.” She said, knowing that he wouldn't—he couldn't. He was bound to it, now. If he could give it up, he'd already have done so, or more likely not taken it in the first place.

  


Nestor twitched, trying to give it to her, but instead he put it back in his mouth. Why? Why couldn't he give it up? He thought of asking her, but his words fled—and besides, he was too busy sucking.

“Oh, sweetie.” She said. “Come here. Come to Mommy.”

Mommy? What the hell? Why would he call her Mommy? Why did it feel so right to call her that? Part of him screamed to run away, leave the pacifier and go, but instead he walked towards her and sat down on the couch beside her.

“Tell me, what's your name?” She asked.

“Nestor.” He mumbled around his pacifier.

“Nestor.” She repeated. “Nestor, how would you like me to give you a job?”

With a jolt, he remembered his job. The one he'd forgotten about, and was now late for. Shit. His employer had made it clear that people were clamoring to be hired, and the slightest mistake would get him fired.

“What job?” He asked.

“You look like a man who works hard for a living. I'm planning to travel, and I could use someone to carry my bags. In exchange, I'll handle all your living expenses.” She tapped his pacifier. “You can suck on this all you like if you work for me.”

He shouldn't. He already felt like he was losing himself, and he knew it was her doing. He should refuse, run out and head to work, beg for his job back. Oh, and stop sucking on the pacifier.

But he didn't move, didn't spit it out, didn't refuse her. Instead, he found himself nodding and murmuring agreement. Work for Mommy, yes. Wait, not Mommy. She was—but he didn't know her name.

“Great.” She straightened. “Your first duty is to get us both packed up. We're leaving tonight.”

  


She left Nestor alone with his thoughts as he set to work. Why was he doing this? Why couldn't he just take the pacifier out, give it back, and leave? And why did it feel so natural to accept such bizarre treatment from her—calling herself Mommy, saying he was hers... Why did those things feel so right, when they were all so wrong?

Even when he got out and headed to his room, he couldn't remove the pacifier. Even knowing that at any moment, someone could come walking down the hall and see him. He couldn't bear the thought of being seen like this. But even less could he bear the thought of taking it out of his mouth, not having the comforting presence against his tongue.

Mirko. Mirko would be wondering where he was. But the thought of going to find Mirko, of Mirko seeing him like this, felt so wrong.

In his room, as he started packing, he battled with his mind. Stop this, he urged himself. Take it out. Stop packing.

Finally, he summoned all his willpower and took out the pacifier. Now throw it out the window, he urged himself, but instead he just sat, staring at it in his hand. He wanted to suck on it. He _needed_ to suck on it. No, he had to fight this. He couldn't give in. But he needed it.

He wasn't sure how long he sat there, warring with himself, but eventually he lost the fight. He put the pacifier back in and continued packing up his things.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nestor's best friend Mirko finds him and tries to save him.

He was about half-finished when he heard a knock on his door. He froze. “Nestor?” Mirko called from the other side, knocking again.

Mirko! Suddenly, he realized this was his last hope. He mustered the remaining scraps of free will he had and tried to cry out, to get up and open the door, but it was in vain. All he could do was sit silently, sucking on his pacifier, tears welling up in his eyes. Mirko would leave, and he'd never see him again. He'd be trapped in his servitude forever.

And then Mirko opened the door. “Nestor?” He asked, then his eyes widened as he took in the scene. “Nestor, what are you doing? Why are you sucking on that thing?”

“I can't stop.” Nestor mumbled around the pacifier, his heart leaping as he realized he'd actually managed to say it. “She says I'm hers, now.” Automatically, he grabbed another shirt and put it in his suitcase.

“Who?” Mirko asked.

“Mommy.” Nestor said automatically. No! Not Mommy! She had a name, even if he didn't know it. He couldn't call her Mommy. He should've asked for her name.

Mirko's face hardened. “Can you give me the pacifier?”

Nestor shook his head.

“Can you let me take it from you?” Mirko asked. When Nestor didn't answer, unsure what would happen, Mirko reached up and gently slid the pacifier from Nestor's mouth. As soon as it was out, Nestor popped his thumb in its place, watching Mirko and his pacifier warily.

“OK. I'm going to take this to a witch I know, and see if she can figure out how to free you from its' spell.” Mirko said.

Nestor was surprised Mirko knew a witch—Nestor hadn't even known for sure if witches existed—but then the rest of Mirko's statement sank in. “No! Give it back!” He threw himself at Mirko, shoving him over and slamming his arm to the ground to make him let go of the pacifier. As soon as he did, Nestor popped it back into his mouth and pulled away, shocked at his reaction.

“Shit.” Mirko rubbed his arm. “So, you won't let me take the pacifier with me.”

Nestor shook his head, tears welling up. “I can't.”

“Can you come with me?” Mirko said.

“I can't. I need to pack. Mommy told me to.” Not Mommy! Stop calling her Mommy! The witch who did this to him, that's what he should call her.

“The lady who did this to you, she wants you to pack up your things?” Mirko asked, and Nestor nodded. “She's planning to take you somewhere, then. Shit.” He rubbed his forehead. “How about if I help you pack, and when we're done, you come with me to this witch I know?”

That might work. Nestor nodded.

“All right.” Mirko and Nestor set to work packing all of Nestor's things.

  


When they were done, Nestor started to follow Mirko out of the room, then hesitated. “People will see.” He hissed.

“Can you take the pacifier out, put it in your pocket or something?” Mirko asked.

Nestor tried, but instead he just shifted the pacifier in his mouth and kept sucking. He shook his head, horrified. He was getting worse so quickly!

“OK, then never mind.” Mirko said. “I know, people will see, but this is serious. If we can't fix this, you'll be going off who knows where as her slave and we'll never see each other again. It's worth a bit of embarrassment to prevent that, isn't it?”

Nestor nodded miserably and followed Mirko down the hall.

  


Kirsteen had gone to the shops for some last-minute supplies, confident that Nestor was packing their things. She'd seen how hard the compulsion to serve had already gripped him. He still showed some resistance, but he was powerless to fight it.

She was very surprised when she found him descending the stairs with another man.

“Mommy.” Nestor mumbled in horror as he saw her, and his companion's face blanched.

“Shit. You're the one who did this to him?” He blurted out.

She muttered an incantation and did the spell gesture, and the stranger's eyes glazed over. “Go to the inn and drink ale until you either pass out or run out of money.” She ordered him, and he let go of Nestor's arm and headed past her down the stairs. She turned to Nestor, who was crying silently now. “Did you pack our things?”

Nestor nodded miserably.

“Come on. Let's get them loaded into the van.” She said. No point in being angry at him, she knew. Fight or not, there was nothing he could do, nothing his friend could've done. There was no way to free a familiar from servitude.

  


Before long, they were all packed, and Nestor sat in the backseat, feeling utterly hopeless. In the inn, Mirko was ordering ale after ale, compelled to drink instead of rescuing his friend. And in the front seat, Momm—the woman—was behind the wheel, turning the key.

And yet, a treacherous part of Nestor felt happy. The pacifier felt good in his mouth, and the knowledge that he'd pleased Mommy—the woman! Damn it!—made a part of him glow with pride.

Maybe he should just give up. There was no fighting it, and he could be happy in her service, the compulsion could make him feel good about it. But he wouldn't be himself, anymore.

And somewhere, deep within, a fire still flickered inside him. He would _never_ give in. She'd have to strip away every part of him by force, and he'd fight her every step of the way. Mirko, too, wouldn't give up. As soon as he was done with his involuntarily bender, he'd start looking for a way to find Nestor and bring him back. Nestor would fight so that he'd still have a shred of self to cling to when Mirko finally came for him.


End file.
